"I'm sure you'll like Paderewski," she said.
"If you do," he said, "I dessay I shall."
He found Coote very kindly taking his cup.
"Do you think of living in Folkestone?" asked Miss Coote, in a tone of proprietorship, from the hearthrug.
"No," said Kipps, "that's jest it—I hardly know." He also said that he wanted to look around a bit before doing anything. "There's so much to consider," said Coote, smoothing the back of his head.
"I may go back to New Romney for a bit," said Kipps. "I got an Uncle and Aunt there. I reely don't know."
Helen regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.
"You must come and see us," she said, "before we go to Bruges."
"Oo, rather!" said Kipps. "If I may."
"Yes, do," she said, and suddenly stood up before Kipps could formulate an enquiry when he should call.
"You're sure you can spare that drawing board?" she said to Miss Coote, and the conversation passed out of range.
And when he had said "Good-bye" to Miss Walshingham and she had repeated her invitation to call, he went upstairs again with Coote to look out certain initiatory books they had had under discussion. And then Kipps, blowing very resolutely, went back to his own place, bearing in his arm (1) Sesame and Lilies, (2) Sir George Tressady, (3) an anony-
